[Illustration: LADY HESTER STANHOPE.
London Henry Colburn, 1845.]
MEMOIRS
OF THE
LADY HESTER STANHOPE,
AS RELATED BY HERSELF
IN CONVERSATIONS WITH HER
PHYSICIAN;
COMPRISING
HER OPINIONS, AND ANECDOTES OF
SOME OF THE MOST REMARKABLE PERSONS
OF HER TIME.
All such writings and discourses as touch no man will mend no
man.――TYERS’s _Rhapsody on Pope_.
Second Edition.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER,
GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1846.
LONDON:
F. SHOBERL, JUN. 51, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET,
PRINTER TO H. R. H. PRINCE ALBERT.
PREFACE
TO THE
SECOND EDITION.
In publishing a second edition of the “Memoirs of Lady Hester
Stanhope,” the Author does not feel himself called upon to reply to the
many desultory criticisms on his work which have issued from the press.
It was naturally to be expected that, among the numerous adherents of
statesmen, noblemen, and princes, whose lives had been commented upon
in these pages, there would be no lack of writers to vindicate their
reputation, or, failing in this, to censure the narrator. But, to do
so with vulgarity, as was the case in two or three reviews, is surely
departing from the rules of literary courtesy, and must rather have
weakened their arguments than otherwise.
We read in the number of the Quarterly Review for September
last (p. 449) a paragraph, which the writer must have known was
a misrepresentation of facts. It is there asserted that the Earl
Stanhope had given a flat contradiction to a portion of Dr. M.’s
_Conversations_. Now, the critic ought to have been aware that what
his lordship denied was no part of the “Conversations,” but an extract
from a letter written by Lady Hester herself to his Grace the Duke of
Wellington; and yet, not acting with the fairness and impartiality
which became him, and becomes every person sitting in judgment on
another, he forgets to give at the same time the answer, and in this
way hopes to cast odium on the Author of the Memoirs, at the expense
of truth and justice. No apology therefore is needed for inserting the
answer, thus, it is to be hoped, unintentionally omitted, and which was
as follows:――
“The Author of the ‘Memoirs of Lady Hester Stanhope’
presents his compliments to the Editor of the _Morning
Post_, and, in reference to that portion of a letter from
the Earl Stanhope, which appeared in the _Morning Post_
on the 10th inst., wherein his lordship complains of an
assertion ‘that he went to dine in company with Mr. Fox
when Mr. Pitt was on his death-bed,’ begs leave to inform
him that it was not made by Lady Hester Stanhope in
conversation with the Author (as might be inferred from his
lordship’s words), but was contained in a letter written
by her ladyship to the Duke of Wellington, and which was
published in the newspapers of the day. Consequently, the
Author of the Memoirs is in no wise responsible for the
accuracy or inaccuracy of the statement.
“With regard to the concluding paragraph of his lordship’s
letter, in which he says, ‘I may also express my concern
that any physician should have considered it as consistent
with his sense of propriety to publish the report of
conversations between himself and one of his patients,’
the Author of the Memoirs takes the liberty of observing
that the contents of his work are not confidential
communications between a physician and his patient, but
conversations upon domestic and public subjects, which had
already been repeated to many other persons, and which, he
was convinced, from her ladyship’s frequent recurrence to
the same topics, she was but too anxious should be made
known to the world. The Author, therefore, may be excused
if he adds that he has been as desirous to observe the
strict rules of propriety, and is as incapable of violating
private confidence, as his lordship himself.”
In other respects, the Author of the Memoirs has no complaint to make.
A reviewer promulgates his opinions, which clash with those of an
author, and the public, if interested in the discussion, soon shows its
leaning. When the reviewer has done honour to Lady Hester Stanhope’s
noble qualities and her virtues, the Author can readily forgive what
is said of himself, although, “peradventure,” not altogether said with
fairness.
THE AUTHOR.
_United University Club,
November 5, 1845._
PREFACE.
There are some people in the world whose pride is so great or so
little, that the remarks of any individual, respecting their condition,
do not affect them one way or the other. Such a person was Lady Hester
Stanhope; and I beg leave, at the outset of this work, to apprize the
reader, in the most explicit terms, that I have published nothing,
in what I am about to submit to his perusal, which she would not
have desired to be _now_ made known. As a professional man, who was
for many years her physician, I may naturally be supposed to feel a
deep interest about her; and, when I had seen her, in the first epoch
of her peregrinations, dwelling in palaces, surrounded with all the
luxuries common to her rank, and courted and admired by all who had
access to her, I could not but be poignantly affected in beholding
the privations to which she was latterly subjected. My object being
to portray a character which is not duly appreciated by people in
general, I could devise no better means than that of giving a diary
of her conversations, wherein her observations on men and things fall
naturally from her own mouth.
Whilst I acknowledge my own unfitness for such a work, my chief reason
for undertaking it is the possession of numerous memoranda, resembling
the unfashioned marble fresh from the quarry, rudely shaped, but, to
the philosopher and moralist, bearing the marks of the soil from whence
it was taken. Had I entrusted them to abler hands, to form into a more
perfect composition, the materials might have been embellished, but it
would have been at the expense of their originality.
Lady Hester Stanhope, noble by birth and haughty by nature, had
carried out from England all the habits of her order: but a prolonged
residence in the East amongst the Turks induced her to reflect on the
different customs of those around her, and she adopted by degrees all
such as she thought had good sense for their basis. Every year brought
her nearer to the simplicity of nature, and taught her to throw down
those barriers with which pride, reserve, and etiquette have hedged in
persons of rank in this country――barriers, favourable to a complete
separation between the rich and poor, between the high and low, but
which have also excluded our aristocracy from the enjoyment of many of
the pleasures of life, and have too often made them the slaves of their
own greatness.
The following pages are faithful transcripts of Lady Hester Stanhope’s
conversations. In the thousand and one nights that I have sat and
listened to them, I have heard enough to compile an uninterrupted
history of her life from her infancy to her death; but, of course, much
has been necessarily suppressed, and much more forgotten: the reader,
therefore, must content himself with a less continuous narrative,
which, it is hoped, will not prove uninstructive, and is, at all
events, strictly true. The phraseology of the speaker is religiously
preserved, as will be readily acknowledged by those who have known her.
In many instances it is but little conformable with the present style
of English conversation: but any alterations made in it, to suit the
fastidiousness of some tastes, would, by destroying the fidelity of the
picture, shake the authenticity of what remains.
I have touched slightly on Lady Hester Stanhope’s religious opinions;
and although I am quite sure that a traveller was seldom, if ever,
allowed to depart from her presence without an insight into her
sentiments on these points, even from the little I have said, it will
be plain that not one has done her justice in speaking of them.
I sincerely trust that nothing will be found in the following pages
which can with just cause wound the feelings of any _living_ person:
and it is to be borne in mind that chagrin and disappointment had
soured Lady Hester’s temper, and put her out of humour with all
mankind; so that her praise and blame must be received with all due
reservation.
Before I conclude, I think it necessary to add a few lines respecting
the last months of her existence. Lady Hester Stanhope died, as far
as I have been able to learn, unattended by a single European, and in
complete isolation. I was the last European physician or medical man
that attended her, and I was most anxious and willing (foreseeing her
approaching fate as I did) to continue to remain with her: but it was
her determined resolve that I should leave her, and those who have
known her can not deny that opposition to her will was altogether out
of the question.
There is no doubt that, by prolonging my stay on Mount Lebanon, I might
have been of considerable service to her ladyship. She was about to
shut herself up alone, without money, without books, without a soul she
could confide in; without a single European, male or female, about her;
with winter coming on, beneath roofs certainly no longer waterproof,
and that might fall in; with war at her doors, and without any means of
defence except in her own undaunted courage; with no one but herself to
carry on her correspondence; so that everything conspired to make it
an imperative duty to remain with her: yet she would not allow me to
do so, and insisted on my departure on an appointed day, declaring it
to be her fixed determination to remain immured, as in a tomb, until
reparation had been made her for the supposed insult she had received
at the hands of the British government.
It would have been expected that the niece of Mr. Pitt, and the
grand-daughter of the great Lord Chatham, might have laid claim to
some indulgence from those whose influence could help or harm her;
and that her peculiar situation in a foreign country, among a people
unacquainted with European customs and habits (being left as she was
to her own energies to meet the difficulties which encompassed her),
might have exempted her from any annoyance, if it did not obtain for
her any aid. A woman sixty years old, with impaired health, inhabiting
a spot removed many miles from any town, amidst a population whom their
own chiefs can hardly keep under control, was no fit object, one would
think, for molestation under any circumstances; but, when the services
of Lady Hester’s family are put into the scale, it seems wonderful
how the representations of interested money-lenders could have had
sufficient weight with those who guided the State to induce them to
disturb her solitude and retirement. Will it be believed that, when
in August, 1838, I took leave of her, the beam of the ceiling of the
saloon, in which she ordinarily sat, was propped up by two unsightly
spars of wood, for fear the ceiling should fall on her head; and that
these deal pillars, very nearly in the rough state in which they had
been brought from the North in some Swedish vessel, stood in the centre
of the room? Her bed-room was still worse; for there the prop was a
rough unplaned trunk of a poplar-tree, cut at the foot of the hill on
which her own house stood.
It may be asked whether there were no carpenters or masons in that
country? There certainly were both; but, where carriage is effected
on the backs of camels and mules and there are no wheeled vehicles
whatever, in a sudden emergency (such as the cracking of a beam),
resort must be had to the most ready expedient for immediate safety;
and, with her resources cramped by the threatened stoppage of her
pension, her ladyship could not venture on new-roofing her rooms――a
work of time and expense.
The perusal of the narrative which is here submitted to the reader will
sufficiently account for Lady Hester’s debts, and the most cursory
visit to her habitation at Jôon (or Djoun, as the French write it)
would have proved to anybody that the money which she had borrowed was
never expended on _her own_ comforts:――a tradesman’s wife in London
had ten times as many. Having no other servants but peasants, although
trained by herself, she could scarcely be said to have been waited on;
and a tolerable idea may be formed of their customary service, when
an eyewitness can say that he has seen a maid ladling water out of a
cistern with the warming-pan, and a black slave putting the teapot on
the table, holding it by the spout, and the spout only.
But these were trifles, in comparison with the destruction and
pilfering common to the negresses and peasant girls; and so little
possibility was there of keeping any article of furniture or apparel
for its destined purpose, that, after many years of ineffectual
trouble, she, who was once, in her attire, the ornament of a court,
might now be said to be worse clad than a still-room maid in her
father’s house. Her ladyship slept on a mattress, on planks upheld
by trestles, and the carpeting of her bed-room was of felt. She
proclaimed herself, with much cheerfulness, a philosopher; and, so far
as self-denial went, in regard to personal sumptuousness, her assertion
was completely borne out in garb and furniture. How far she deserved
that title, upon the higher grounds of speculative science and the
extraordinary range of her understanding, let those say who have shared
with the writer in the profound impression which her conversation
always left on the minds of her hearers.
Peace be with her remains, and honour to her memory! A surer friend,
a more frank and generous enemy, never trod the earth. “Show me where
the poor and needy are,” she would say, “and let the rich shift for
themselves!” As free from hypocrisy as the purest diamond from stain,
she pursued her steady way, unaffected by the ridiculous reports that
were spread about her by travellers, either malicious or misinformed,
and not to be deterred from her noble, though somewhat Quixotic
enterprises, by ridicule or abuse, by threats or opposition.
I take this opportunity of thanking the Chevalier Henry Guys, French
Consul at Aleppo, for the communication he so liberally made me of
the correspondence between Lady Hester Stanhope and himself, and from
which I have selected such letters as bore on the subjects noticed in
the diary. The reader will form the best estimate of that gentleman’s
merits from a perusal of them.
THE AUTHOR.
_London, June 18, 1845._
CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.
CHAPTER I.
Introductory remarks――Correspondence 1
CHAPTER II.
The Author’s departure from England to join Lady Hester Stanhope――
Voyage from Leghorn to Syria――The vessel plundered by a Greek
pirate――Return to Leghorn――Signor Girolamo――Letter from Lady Hester
Stanhope to Mr. Webb, merchant at Leghorn――Lady Hester persecuted by
the Emir Beshýr――Letter from Lady Hester to the Author, describing her
position in 1827――Her reliance on Providence――Second Letter to Mr.
Webb――Her opinion of the Turks and Christians in Syria, and of the
wild Arabs――Terror of the Franks in Syria, on occasion of the battle
of Navarino――They take refuge in Lady Hester’s house――The Franks
in Syria――Lady Hester’s letter to the Author, urging him to rejoin
her――Her advice――Her illness――The Author sails for Syria 30
CHAPTER III.
Lady Hester Stanhope’s reception of the Author――Her residence
described――Supposed reasons for her seclusion――Her extraordinary
influence over her dependants――Her violent temper――Her dress and
appearance――Her influence in the country――Abdallah Pasha guided by
her――Her hostility towards the Emir Beshýr――Her defiance of his
power――Her opinion of him――Flight of the Emir――His return――Death of
the Sheykh Beshýr 67
CHAPTER IV.
Lady Hester Stanhope’s hours of sleep――Her night-dress――Irksomeness
of her service――Her bed-room――Her dislike to clocks――Her frequent use
of the bell――Her aptitude in discovering and frustrating plots――Blind
obedience required by her――Anecdote of Lord S.――Lady Hester’s
colloquial powers――Interminable length of her conversations――Peculiar
charm of them――Her religious opinions――Her belief in supernatural
agencies, and also of revealed religion――Certain doctrines of the
sect of the Metoualis adopted by her 102
CHAPTER V.
Buoyancy of Lady Hester Stanhope’s spirits――Death of Miss
Williams――Mrs.――――’s first visit to Lady Hester――The Author is summoned
to Damascus to attend Hassan Effendi: declines going――Discussions
between Lady Hester and Mrs. ―――― thereupon――Lady Hester’s hatred of
women――She sends her maid to revile Mrs. ―――― ――The Author resolves
to return to England――Alarm from soldiers on their march――Lady
Hester assists Abdallah Pasha in laying out his garden――Anecdotes
of the first Lord Chatham――Fresh discourses about the Journey to
Damascus――Anecdotes of Mr. Pitt――His attachment to Miss E.――His
admiration of women――His indulgence towards other people’s
failings――Lady Hester and the fair Ellen――Strange history――Mr. Pitt’s
attention to the comfort of his guests, and of his servants――Strange
rise of one of them――Lady Hester’s pathos――Paolo Perini’s expected
post of artilleryman 132
CHAPTER VI.
Lady Hester Stanhope’s belief in the coming of a Messiah――Her two
favourite mares――Lady Hester’s destiny influenced by Brothers, the
fortune-teller, and by one Metta, a Syrian astrologer――Duke of
Reichstadt――Madame de Fériat――Story of a Circassian slave――Rugged paths
in Mount Lebanon――Anecdote of Lord and Lady Bute――Anecdote of Mr. A.,
afterwards Lord S.――His father’s rise in the world――Lord Liverpool and
the order of merit――Intimidation exercised over the Author’s household
by Lady Hester――Sundry difficulties arising therefrom――Lady Hester’s
opinion of X.’s mission――Mrs. Fry――Lady Hester’s defiance of consular
authority, and confidence in her own resources――Lunardi recommended as
a servant――The Author takes leave of Lady Hester――Conduct of the Franks
at Sayda――The Author sails for Cyprus――Is hospitably received by Mr.
Hanah Farkouah, a Syrian, and by Signor Baldassare Mattei――Marine villa
at Larnaka――Mr. George Robinson――Captain Scott――Captain Dundas――Mr.
Burns――The Author sails for Europe 170
CHAPTER VII.
Reflections――Letter from Lady Hester to the Author asking him
to return――He revisits Syria――Changes which had taken place in
Beyrout――M. Jasper Chasseaud, American consul――Divine service
performed by the American missionaries――Letter from Lady Hester to
the Author――Her continued hostility to Mrs. ――.――The Author takes his
family to Sayda――Dress and demeanour of a lady of Sayda――The Author’s
reception at Jôon――His family frightened by a deserter――Settles at
the convent of Mar Elias――Earthquake of January 1, 1837 208
CHAPTER VIII.
History of Raïs Hassan――His influence with Lady Hester Stanhope――Number
of persons in her service――Number of animals in her stables――Her
manner of disposing of those which were superannuated――Her belief
in Magic and Demonology――Examples――Anecdotes of Mr. Brummell――Mr.
H.――The Duc de R********――Lord St. Asaph――Lady Hester’s strictness with
menials――Justified by their misconduct and vices――Zeyneb, the black
slave――Annoyances to which Lady Hester was subjected――Her service not
tolerable for Europeans――Her reasons for using plain furniture――Her
detestation of sentimentality――Her general interference in every
department of housewifery――Irregularities of the servants――Chastity,
how defined in Turkey――Lady H.’s measures for enforcing it――Her
opinion of a French traveller, and of M. Lascaris 231
CHAPTER IX.
Queen Caroline’s trial――In what manner the first inquiry was
suppressed――Lady Hester’s opinion of the P――――ss of W.――Young
Austin――Lord Y.――P. of W.――His disgust at the slovenly habits of
the P――――ss.――Mrs. Fitzherbert――Mrs. Robinson――Mr. Canning――His
person――His duplicity――and deceit――His incapability of acting without
guidance――His disposition to babble――Lady Hester’s account of a great
serpent――Mr. T. Moore――Lord Camelford――His liberality――Some anecdotes
of that high-spirited nobleman――Arrival of Madame L.――She is seized
with brain-fever, and dies raving mad――Visit of General Cass 264
CHAPTER X.
Mrs. ――――’s unwillingness to remain at Abra after Signora L.’s
death――Beyrout fixed on as a residence――Lady H.’s account of her
debts――Necessities to which she was reduced――Another version
of her debts――Her extensive charities――Anecdote of Shaykh
Omar-ed-dyn――Usurious discount on Lady H.’s bills of exchange――Loss
from the fluctuating value of money in the East――Estates supposed to
have been bequeathed to Lady H.――Letters from Lady H. to M. Guys――She
employs Sir Francis Burdett to inquire into the nature of the supposed
bequests――Her opinion of Sir Francis――Letter to him――Lady H.’s
diatribes on women――Mr. C.――Letter to Miss ―――― ――Letter to the
Author 294
Additional Notes 337
ILLUSTRATIONS.
VOL. I.
Lady Hester Stanhope on Horseback _Frontispiece_.
Ground plan of Lady Hester Stanhope’s Residence
at Jôon _Page_ 74
VOL. II.
Lady Hester Stanhope in her Saloon _Frontispiece_.
VOL. III.
Distant View of Lady Hester Stanhope’s Residence
on Mount Lebanon _Frontispiece_.
MEMOIRS
OF
LADY HESTER STANHOPE.
CHAPTER I.
Introductory remarks――Correspondence.
When Lady Hester Stanhope commenced her travels, in 1810, I accompanied
her in the capacity of physician, until, after many wanderings in the
East, I saw her finally settled on Mount Lebanon; but, being obliged
to return to England for the purpose of taking my medical degrees at
Oxford and London, after having passed seven years uninterruptedly in
her service, I took leave of her. My successor, an English surgeon,
disliking an Oriental life, left her, however, at the end of a year
or two, and, at Lady Hester’s request, I again revisited Syria. But I
found that her ladyship had in the mean while completely familiarized
herself with the usages of the East, conducting her establishment
entirely in the Turkish manner, and adopting even much of their medical
empiricism. Under these circumstances, and at her own suggestion, I
again bade her adieu, as I then believed, for the last time.
It was my intention to have cultivated my professional pursuits in
London; there were great difficulties to be overcome――difficulties
which have been ably depicted in the graphic pages of a recent
publication. I did not wait, however, to try the issue of this slow
career. Years of travel had inspired me with other views; and it was
with much secret satisfaction that I resolved to avail myself of an
opportunity which Lady Hester’s wishes again presented me, of once more
traversing the mountain solitudes of Syria. It is not altogether an
idle tribute of respect and admiration for her character to say, that
the prospect of resuming my former position afforded me real pleasure.
Long habit had reconciled me to her eccentricities, and even to her
violent and overbearing temper. I had a profound sense of her exalted
nature, and I felt that her oddities and peculiarities weighed only
with those who knew her merely by common report, and that they in no
respect affected her intrinsic worth in the estimation of such as were
intimately acquainted with the sterling qualities of her heart and
understanding.
I had been honoured with letters from her, in which she gave me reason
to understand that she should be gratified by my presence in Syria; and
I promptly expressed my readiness, in reply, to resume my situation
near her person. The long intervals, however, which elapsed in the
transmission of letters, (sometimes as much as four months) added to
the uncertainty of what I should do, and the absolute necessity of
doing something, induced me, while the correspondence was pending, to
enter into a professional engagement with a gentleman of rank. When her
anxiety to receive me, therefore, was definitively conveyed to me, I
was placed in the painful dilemma of being obliged to apologize to her
for not being able at that time to join her. This apology naturally
generated a feeling of distrust in a mind so sensitive and impulsive――a
feeling abundantly exhibited, in her own peculiar way, in the following
extracts from letters received from her at this period. Some of these
letters were written by herself, and some by her _protégée_ Miss
Williams,[1] at her dictation.
_Extract of a letter from Lady Hester Stanhope to Dr. ――――._
July 30, 1823.
* * * * *
I shall not either scold or reproach you; I only hope that
the line you have taken will turn out in the end to your
advantage. I confess I am sorry and mortified that, after
having rendered me several services, you are still in a
situation so little independent. Were I inclined to be
angry, it would be with ――――; for, had he been like the
chevaliers of former times, he would have said, “Doctor,
however it may be inconvenient for me to part with you
at present, I so much respect your motives, and so much
admire your fidelity, that, so far from opposing, allow me
to promote your views; and I beg you will accept of this
purse for your little wants. When you have finished with
it, I trust you will consider me as your next friend; and
I flatter myself I may expect from you the same proofs of
attachment.”
But the world is spoilt; no good feeling exists; all is
egotism. Had ――――’s mind been as elegant as his horses,
carriages, and servants were, when I saw them, years ago,
he would not have acted thus, and taken advantage of a
man’s circumstances, to have made him act against his
inclination.[2]
I have no right to demand permanent sacrifices of you or
others. The time will come when you will see with deep
regret whether or not I had taken into consideration
your interests as well as my own present convenience. I
was surprised at your offer, so often repeated, and less
surprised at your conduct; as a doubt often had occurred
in my own mind, if temptations of any kind happened to be
thrown in your way, whether or not you would have strength
of mind to refuse present advantage and comfort. You have
acted as you judged best, and as you thought circumstances
authorized you to do; but you never can persuade me that
General Grenville, the soul of honour and feeling, could
ever have recommended a man to break his word. Had you
simply asked him, before you had made up your mind, “Shall
I keep my word and go, or accept of those offers? Give me,
I do entreat, your candid opinion:”――I know what it would
have been. But, having decided, what would you have him
say? that I should be angry? No: he knew me too well not to
be aware that no sacrifice, which I did not believe to be a
voluntary one, could have any value in my estimation.
I cannot explain my feelings without seeming to praise
myself. I make one rule for my own line of conduct, and
one for that of others, and have two separate judgments;
I mean, one regulated by truth and feeling, and one after
the fashion of what is thought right in the world. I never
judge myself and those I really love by the latter. I wish
them to be pure and highminded, and to have confidence
in God’s mercy, if they act from true principle. But
you worldly slaves of _bon ton_ must not be tried by
such a test. Mr. Murray[3] was right――“She will not be
angry,”――no, because she thinks you all children: I mean
the gay world, of which you now make a part.
I need not have said all this, but it is a hint as to the
future, when the folly and uselessness of modern ideas
and calculations will be at an end. I have been thought
mad――ridiculed and abused; but it is out of the power of
man to change my way of thinking upon any subject. Without
a true faith, there can be no true system of action. All
the learned of the East pronounce me to be a _Ulemah
min Allah_,[4] as I can neither write nor read; but my
reasoning is profound according to the laws of Nature.
I shall say nothing of this part of the world, where I
had latterly announced your speedy arrival to some of my
particular friends and to my family.[5] Your interest about
matters here must now be at an end; and it fatigues me so
to write, that, without it is a case of absolute necessity,
I must give it up. I have no assistance. My two dragomans
are low-minded, curious, vulgar men, in whom I can put no
confidence. In short, they can only be called very bad, idle
servants, having no one property of a gentleman belonging to
them.
James’s loss,[6] the general’s death――all has afflicted
me beyond description. I heard of James’s affliction
six months after. To write, not to write――no proper
conveyance――what to say――after a year, perhaps, to open
the wounds of his heart without being able to pour in
one drop of the balm of consolation! What I say would be
vain. He considers me as a sort of poor mad woman, who has
once loved him; therefore, he is kind to me: but as to my
opinions having weight――no! To be considered as a sort of
object is not flattering; but so let it be. There is no
remedy for it, or other evils, except in the hand of God,
which, if he will stretch forth to save me, all may vanish;
if not, I shall vanish; for I am quite worn out.
You will probably never receive the letter I alluded to,
enclosed to a _person_. They must have heard of your
conduct, and therefore think it unnecessary to see you, or
give you the letter. Why did you inquire about this? What a
simpleton you are! But there it all ends: there will be no
more jumbles to make. Perhaps you may not hear from me, or
of me, for years.
Remember, I shall give no opinion about you to any one;
therefore, do not fancy, if you see a change in people’s
conduct, it comes from me. The world and fashionable
loungers take up new favourites every day, and discard the
old ones without reason. All are not General Grenvilles. No
one so likely to be mortified at this as you.
Why do you not talk to me of James’s poor little children,
and why not have asked to see them? Have you forgotten how
all about him interests me? I fear folly and fashion have
got hold of you....
H. L. STANHOPE.
* * * * *
In the year 1826, my professional engagements with the honourable
individual before alluded to having ceased, I made the necessary
preparations for my departure from England. Lady Hester Stanhope’s
situation, feelings, and intentions at this precise time, will be best
understood from three long letters which she wrote on three successive
days of January, 1827, the very month in which I set out, but which I
did not receive until the July following, at Pisa. To make the contents
of these letters intelligible, it is necessary to premise that a
traveller, whom we will designate as Mr. X., had, during a visit to her
ladyship, at her residence, insinuated himself into her confidence so
far as to make her believe that he was sent by the Duke of Sussex and
the Duke of Bedford, and a committee of other influential Freemasons,
to inquire into her wants, and to offer her such sums of money out of
their funds as would extricate her from her pecuniary difficulties. How
she could believe in such a gross tissue of falsehoods it is difficult
to imagine, unless we are to suppose that Mr. X. was himself the dupe
of others, who, for some sinister purpose, had furnished him with
papers and documents so apparently authentic as to impose even upon
Lady Hester Stanhope’s wonted sagacity.[7]
* * * * *
_Lady Hester Stanhope to Dr. ――――._
Djoun, January 5, 1827.
My dear Doctor,
I will not afflict you by drawing a picture of my
situation, or of the wretched scarecrow grief and sickness
have reduced me to; but I must tell you that I am nearly
blind, and this is probably the last letter I shall be able
to write to you: indeed, no other will be necessary.
I have received your letters of September the 17th and
October the 18th of last year. What tricks played upon me,
who have sacrificed everything to what I thought right!
X., upon his arrival here, gave out to everybody, a month
before I saw him, that he was the bearer of important
letters from persons of the first consequence, and that
he was sent to see into and settle my affairs. When he
presented himself to me, he said that _B._ wrote to him to
go to Syria, and _Aug._ sent him, and that his expenses
were defrayed by the _Sharky_, and that everything would be
as I could wish, and more than I could wish; at least, as
far as I had expressed. As for his having become guarantee
for my debts, or having advanced me £1400, with the promise
shortly of £5000 more, it is all pure invention. He _did_
say that he had written to order a box of jewels, worth
20, or 25,000 piasters, to be sent to a merchant here, to
be sold on my account: and he said also he should send a
letter of credit from Constantinople for 100 purses, for me
to go on with until an express could arrive from England.
The money he was to draw from his mercantile house; and
he told me I need not be uneasy about it, as he should
be paid instantly upon his arrival in England. He talked
about its being his duty, &c. I certainly believed all
this, but have never seen a farthing. What he said to your
friend, Mr. Vondiziano, of Cyprus, I know not; but Mr. V.
offered to send me 2000 dollars, which I accepted, and
gave a note for six months, as desired, and the time of
payment is now nine months past. X. moreover assured me,
that in England nothing had been well understood, excepting
only that all was wonder and approbation. He said that
he should return here with all that I wanted, and should
bring with him bricklayers, carpenters, &c., to enlarge my
house and premises, as many great people would be coming
who were anxious to see me: so that not a ship appears in
sight but poor and rich fly to the seaside, shout and bare
their heads, praying that it may be my ship; for all know
my distress, and that I shall live upon charity. According
to the ideas of the East, they expect to see a great box
of money, left me by my brother, and the contents of his
store-room, and all his pots and pans. It would not,
therefore, be prudent for X. to return here. He would fare
ill, and I should not know what to say. Should he arrive, I
shall not see him; for he must be either a spy, a swindler,
or a scapegoat for lies; and none of these characters do I
wish to have anything to do with.
Poor Williams knows nothing of all this, except that I am
in debt, and in expectation of money which is to come; for
X. told everybody so: but she is at times uneasy about the
future, and so on. All is right with her: she is strictly
honest, but ignorant, having been a spoiled child, doing
only what she thought proper, and never having learned
household affairs. Yet, had she not been here, everything
would have been much worse; as all, you know, are thieves,
or wasteful, destroying beasts, unthankful, improvident,
and whom it is impossible to teach any thing, or to make
listen to reason or common sense.
Write to _B._, or call upon him until you see him. Do not
give it up; but, until you have seen him, say not a word of
my letters to any one. Let _B._ take notes, and speak to
_Aug._――not you. Let prudence and silence be the order of
the day with you, and even with the _Sharky_ of all nations
you sometimes dine with. _B._ is a pure one, by birthright.
I believe X. has acted by command, like others; therefore,
in my heart, I am not angry with him; yet I will not see
him.
Now, here are my orders and ultimatum. We will suppose
two cases. If X.’s story is true, and my debts, amounting
to £10,000, or nearly, are to be paid, then I shall go on
making sublime and philosophical discoveries, and employing
myself in deep, abstract studies; although, as my strength
is gone, I cannot work day and night, as I have done. In
that case, I shall want a mason, a carpenter, a ploughman,
a gardener, groom, cowman, doctor, &c.; so that I must have
assistance: income made out, £4000 a year, and £1000 more,
for persons like you, that I should want, and £5000 ready
money, for provisions, building, animals, money in hand,
&c., that I may start clear. In the second case, in the
event that all that has been told me is a lie, then let me
be disowned publicly, now and hereafter, and left to my
fate and faith alone: for, if I have not a right to what I
want, which is in the hands of Messrs. Sharky and Co., I
will have nothing. Nothing else will I hear of; and grief
has departed from my soul since I have taken the following
resolution.
I shall give up everything for life, that I may now or
hereafter possess in Europe, to my creditors, and throw
myself as a beggar upon Asiatic humanity, and wander far
without one _para_ in my pocket, with the mare from the
stable of Solomon in one hand, and a sheaf of the corn of
_Beni-Israel_ in the other. I shall meet death, or that
which I believe to be written, which no mortal hand can
efface. There is nothing else to be done. I shall wait for
no dawdling letters, or fabrication of lies, of which,
for these five years, I have had enough. The will of God
be done! I shall cheerfully follow my fate, and defy them
all. For what are they without me? In the long run, they
will see. But I have too lofty a soul not to observe the
strictest line of honour towards even my enemies.
Dear little Adams! I have never written to that _joher_;[8]
but all the past is written in my heart. I only waited till
the cloud of my misery had dispersed, to let him know I was
not ungrateful. Should it please God to deliver me out of
the hands of my cruel brethren, as Joseph was delivered,
then he will know――and you will know――what are my feelings
of gratitude. Forgive me, forgive me, if I have injured you
involuntarily! Oh! my God! perhaps, I have been the cause
of your ruin. I have wept and wept; but tears will not feed
the little children. Alas! my only trust is in Heaven.
You meant to do well, so I will not scold: but why
apply without leave to the _Fat_ or the _Thin_, or why
talk to ―――― of my concerns? What is ―――― to me? I
never could endure him. I know him well――a low-minded,
chitter-chattering fellow: but suppose him an angel, had
you my leave to consult or speak to him?――it is not likely.
But, in the event of the _Fat_ or the _Thin’s_ having
placed any money in the hands of my bankers, let them
take it back again.... You have no explanations to make,
only that I decline it. Under no circumstances, I repeat,
will I owe any obligation to the _Fat_, to the _Thin_, to
Canning, or his friends, or have anything to do with Sir
Vanity. I say this, as I have heard of new plans of his.
He may perhaps mean to come here;――if to-morrow, I shall
shut my door in his face. If any force, consular force, is
ever tried with me, I shall use force in return, and appeal
to the populace to defend me. It is right this should be
known. I am no slave, and I disown all such authority.
Never will I be brought to England but in chains, and never
will I be made to act differently from that which my will
dictates, whilst there is breath in my body: therefore, to
attempt to oppose me is vain. I am up to all their tricks,
and it is time there should be an end of them.
If ―――― calls, say you have had a letter, in which I
express my great astonishment that you should have spoken
to him of my affairs, as they do not concern him in any
way, and that I insist upon it that you should be perfectly
silent in future; so he must not take it ill. Tell him
that, strange to say, I decline all assistance from my
family――persons, whom I have had no communication with for
years, or ever shall have; and if he asks what I am to do,
say you don’t know――that she knows best. I fear by and by
that everything will be in the newspapers. These sort of
men talk before servants to show their importance; all goes
to grooms, footmen, and coachmen. I have traced all that
before. One would think you were mad to forget all I have
said to you on those subjects.
Grieve not about me――I am without fear and without
reproach. My mind is a Paradise, since I have cast all
that botheration from me: it is full of sublime ideas and
knowledge. Write no more. I want nothing, and shall be off
as soon as the fine weather comes, unless it should please
God to _eftah bab el khyr_, [to open the door to good
fortune]; otherwise, I shall burn all, and send Williams to
Malta, with a note to be paid the first when Lady Bankes
dies; for I have never paid her expenses here to Mr. David.
Adieu, God bless you!
PS.――There is another letter at your friend’s in the
city, which goes by this conveyance, and a note in it for
――――. Puff! upon the £800. I spit upon it, and as many
thousands from the same quarter. Are you mad? No, but I,
in misfortune as in prosperity, am unlike the rest of the
world; and I shall give sufficient proof that I defy it
altogether.
_Lady Hester Stanhope to Dr. ――――._
Djoun, January 6, 1827.
I have received your letters of the 17th September and 18th
of October of last year safe. You will inquire for a letter
of mine directed to Coutts’s, but not in my hand; and do
not say it came from me. Say nothing to any one of having
received this, until you have well conned over the other:
then go to B., insist upon seeing him, saying it is of the
utmost importance. The note, which I told you in my letter
of yesterday would be enclosed in this, I have burnt, for
fear of accidents. Notwithstanding, in the event of my
being mistaken, in order that all may be clear to you, I
have sent you enclosed more notes. In the letter of the 5th
you will find my ultimate resolves. I hope and trust not in
them.
I have read over your letters again. Never did I tell X. to
ask for a place, or recommend him, more than saying he had
acted generously and kindly by me, which I then believed.
As for my debts, it is not, as you think, 25 per cent.
yearly that I have to pay, but 50 and 95, and, in one
instance, I have suffered more loss still. Gold of 28½
piasters they counted to me here at 45, which I spent
at 28½, and am to repay at Beyrout at the rate of
45――calculate that. I was compelled to borrow; for I can’t
eat silk, and that is all that is to be found here. Had
those, who ought, then given a clear answer, things would
not have been thus: but so it is written; I was to be a
beggar. Be it so! All situations have their blessings, with
the grace of God; it is uncertainty which is torture: but
now my mind is made up. I have saved a _mid_[9] of the
corn of the _Beni-Israel_, having no more land to sow. When
in ear, ripe or not ripe, I shall cut it and be off, and
give up my present and future income to my creditors for my
life. Perhaps they may gain two hundred per cent.
Should the other letter be lost, burn this; hold your
tongue, and say you have not heard from me; for this is of
no use without the other, which contains full explanations,
and for which reason you may be commanded to say that you
have not heard from me. The loss will change nothing. I
shall follow my fate, and be far off, I hope, before new
lies arrive.
Not that I credit any change,――but, in case of a happy turn
of events, I have said all this to provide for all cases,
that you may not be embarrassed how to act. But I have
little or no hope. I am no dupe to the tricks played me;
who could be, who had one grain of common sense? A child
of seven years old, well brought up, must at once see how
unlikely――how impossible――it was that I should have applied
for money to those who, from the hour I have first known
them, have been themselves involved, or to that _one_[10]
whom admiration and respect give me confidence in, and
not intimacy. How could any human being credit that,
with my independent character, I could stoop to receive
one farthing from relations who have behaved to me like
mine ..., and who, for years and years, have been upon the
footing of strangers?
What an affliction to me is the sad news you wrote! Poor
dear angel! what a heart! May he inhabit the seventh
heaven![11]
I have been very ill of a terrible fever and strong
convulsions. I tell you this that the period may not be
mistaken, and my pension stopped. My eyes are quite dim,
and drawn into my head with contraction, which sometimes
pulls my head back――quite back. I can hardly crawl; but
yet, poor monster as I am, I shall get on: for my spirit
and heart are unchanged.
Now for servants. In the event of things having taken a
favourable turn, and of their giving you the money necessary,
I shall want no women until I have seen you first, and heard
about them, for they might not answer. Men I should want as
you will find described below, but no man-servant for the
house――they are quite useless; never can one give a pipe, or
present himself, and always out of temper with his room, food,
&c. All those who come may go back in the Turkish year 45.
Do not forget to make that remark to B., but to no one else.[12]
MEN-SERVANTS.
The great object would be a storekeeper to lock up, weigh,
measure, and write down everything that comes in or goes
out. Strict honesty, activity, and good character, are most
necessary. Perhaps one of the sons of my old wet-nurse,
Mrs. T., might answer better than anybody else, as I
should feel sure of their attachment and principles. Mr.
Murray knows and likes her, and might make that inquiry;
and, indeed, there may be a girl in the family that might
suit me, or a grandchild of the eldest daughter――the more
like the mother, my nurse, the better; for she was a most
charming and valuable creature, the happiest temper under
the sun. It would not be a vulgar place for the son,
because he would have a strong _fellah_ [peasant] under
him, to lift, and carry, and expose the stores to the air:
he should write a good hand, and be able to keep accounts:
his place would be like that of a purser in a ship. In one
of the great revolutions, about five years ago, when I was
eaten up by those who fled to me for succour, there went,
in less than a year, thirty-six _garáras_ of wheat,[13]
fifty of barley, and four and a half cwt. of butter, with
everything else in proportion.
The second man must be an old dragoon to overlook _sayses_
[grooms]: one out of Lord Cathcart’s regiments would be
best, because they are all polite. My lord is of the old
school, and his men have a fine, imposing appearance. He
must be spirited, though cool; for hasty people will not do
with these beasts. General Taylor, if you asked him, would
understand best what I mean.
Next, I must have a Scotch gardener, a quiet, steady,
and retired character, yet active and intelligent,
understanding the culture of flowers and garden-stuff in
a common way, and capable of being a sort of bailiff, to
choose land, prune trees, plough, sow, and lay out grounds.
He should bring with him all sorts of proper utensils――a
plough, a harrow, &c.; seeds, roots――and be ingenious
enough to make a little model for this, and a little
model for that. These three will be sufficient; for all
waiting-servants and house-servants are useless.
I want a maid-servant for myself; not a fine lady, but one
who has been a nursery or housemaid; one by nature above
her situation, about eighteen, twenty, or twenty-two years
of age, proper or not proper all the same, with a most
excellent character. Don’t employ fifty persons about it.
The Scotch lady, who was so good to Lucy, perhaps would
know such a one――I mean one who has natural sense, feeling,
a good heart and person, but no boarding-school miss――for
education of all things is most odious.
Then I must have one for housekeeper, knowing about a
dairy, all sorts of bread, pastry, and preserves, and not
mild, but faithful.
Now, you have heard me a thousand times say what are good
and what are bad marks; but, as you have a horrid memory, I
will add a few observations.
Wrinkles at the eyes are abominable, and about the mouth.
Eyebrows making one circle, if meeting, or close and
straight, are equally bad. Those are good meeting the line
of the nose, as if a double bridge. Eyes long, and wide
between the eyebrows; and no wrinkles in the forehead when
they laugh, or about the mouth, are signs of bad luck
and duplicity. Eyes all zigzag are full of lies. A low,
flat forehead is bad; so are uneven eyes, one larger than
the other, or in constant motion. I must have a fine,
open face, all nature, with little education, in a fine,
straight, strong, healthy person, with a sweet temper.
Did you ever see a picture or painting of the Lady William
Russell, the duke’s brother’s wife? that sort of face
was perfect for a woman. If the eyebrows of a _man_ are
straight, and come nearly together, that is nothing; but,
if they form an arch, it is always a sign of natural _hum_
[melancholy or gloominess] in character. Never can such a
one be contented or happy. Look at little Adams and General
Taylor――how sincere are their black eyebrows!
Don’t make a mistake――wrinkles of age are not the wrinkles
of youth, of which I am speaking. One line is not called a
wrinkle. The wrinkles I speak of are found in children of
seven years old when they laugh or cry.
The foot should be hollow and not flat. Club-feet stand
good with all men and women. Legs that kick up dust when
they walk, or a heavy walk, are bad. Stumpy hands are not
good. Very white skin is not good; the yellow-white is
better, and the veins should appear in the arms and wrists.
An offensive, snapping voice, and awkward, snatching
fingers, are bad; as is affectation of all sorts――bad
teeth, unclean tongue and mouth, and bad smells about the
person. Shun dry, crabbed dispositions, masked with smiles
and gentleness; as also the officious and fidgety, the
curious and intriguing, the discontented, and those with no
feeling, or feeling false taught.
[Not signed.]
To this letter is appended a page of Arabic, written in English
characters, which Lady Hester considered would be intelligible to
me, accustomed as I was to her manner of speaking that language: but
it is questionable whether any other person, however well acquainted
with Arabic, would be able to make out her meaning. I shall beg leave,
therefore, to omit the whole passage.
* * * * *
_Lady Hester Stanhope to Dr. ――――._
Djoun, Jan. 7, 1827.
Besides this, there is a letter addressed to Grosvenor
Square, and one to the Strand. Do not own any of the three
from me until you have read them all over, and made notes
of what concerns me and my affairs. Communicate everything,
as I desire you, to B., to _Aug._, and not to any one else
at present, unless ordered by him.
Say not a word to X. until all is settled, one way or
another. Then, before B., ask him these questions: Did not
you say you had been the travelling-companion to B.’s son
W., and had been like a child of the family?――Did not you
show a present from _Aug._, saying, in case of accidents,
that was a passport _partout_, and that money would be
given you, if required, when that was seen?――Did not you
show a paper, in a red box, as your grand credentials
from the house of Sharka and Co.?――Did not you give a good
reason for not being the bearer of private letters from
_Aug._, B., and others?――Did not you say that all were mere
dunces in comparison with _Kokub_? But all is trick. The
poor devil, I believe, was given _carte blanche_ to lie,
provided he could spy――perhaps from another quarter?
Oh! odious ――――! For God’s sake, keep clear of him! What
has such a fellow to do with me, or my concerns? He has
ever been a meddler and mischief-maker, and for these
twenty years I have had no communication with him. By
what law of God or man, are you bound to answer people’s
questions?――the lowest and most vulgar of proceedings. I
have told you so for years and years. What had he to do
with the coming or going of X.? and what sort of a fellow
is X., to have thus made public my affairs?
Of the assistance of the _Fat_ or _Thin_ I will not hear.
The last I have had no communication with for twenty years
and more, and the other I cannot respect. Heber has grieved
me, for I once thought better of him. He has, at times,
made offers of service in a vague way, just to say he had
made them; but, if sincere, he would have written――“You
have lost a friend; perhaps your presence may be required
in England, to put your affairs to rights; therefore, I
have placed so-and-so at Coutts’s, ready for your journey,
which, if not necessary, let me have the consolation of
thinking, may add to your little comforts.” I should not
have accepted anything, but yet should have thought it
necessary to have thanked him, which I have not done for
nonsensical speeches. I feel that I have no friend left in
Europe; all are gone. Yet Allah mojôod [God is with me],
and that is enough.
Speaking to little _A._ was proper; but, to all others, oh,
what folly! You are no chitter-chatterer by nature, but
your vanity makes you so. Why did I never speak to you of
sublime things?――because I feared your prudence. You used
sometimes to say――I have been asked so and so, sometimes
so extraordinary. Poh! poh! stuff! are you a fool? do hold
your tongue. Those _hums_ and _hahs_ were only distant
hints: had you heard more, you would have gone mad. Not so
me: I am all composure; haughty before men, but humble in
spirit, like the _Nebby Daôod_ [the prophet David], before
the wise dispenser of _hum_ and _khyr_ [of sorrow and joy].
Do you think that misery will make me crouch, or beg of
those who have no heart? If I beg, it will be of the
followers of Omar and Ali, whose creed is generosity;
and the good amongst them never even wound an unfortunate
being, by making him retail his misfortunes.
Since my mind has been made up, I am not low, but
feeble, and almost blind with a sort of violent muscular
contraction, which has drawn my eyes into my head, and
sometimes has distorted all my body: but my body is
nothing; the heart is as full of fire as ever. I cannot
read what I have written. I was two days making out your
last letters. I had prepared a little court, with two rooms
and an open divan, for you; but, with Mrs. ―――― and the
children, it will not do. I shall love her and the dear
children much, and all might be comfortable. God grant it
so! I have a house in the village, which is good, and will
do very well――clean, with two rooms up-stairs. If things
were to turn out well, I should quickly build apartments
close to the house, which would be near and convenient. But
what do I say? All my plans are overturned; and, although
in spirits at the idea of shortly getting away from all
I have to go through, I am miserable that that cheat X.
did not perfectly explain about your letter enclosed in
_Aug.’s_. What will you do?
Well, now I have said enough, and must make up my mind to
have, in a few days, an attack, from overstraining my head
and eyes: but it is the last effort of the nature I shall
make. Adieu.
[Not signed.]
PS. A dun, who came here two months ago――a Christian――took
a Turk into his room, after I had seen and spoken to him,
and said――“I came to get my money, but now I am ready to
cry at her situation. It is clear that those Franks are
unprincipled and unfeeling, that they have no religion,
and know not God. The proof is――and does there want a
stronger?――their leaving such a wonderful person as
she really is to wither with sorrow.” Then he went out
swearing, and took his leave. These are the feelings now
alive among the Turkish population. As a contrast, mark how
Mr. ――――, an Englishman, acts. He told one of my creditors
to take my bond, put it in water, and, when well sopped,
to drink the mixture; “for that is all,” said he, “you
will ever get for it.” Furious was the creditor, and took
himself off to a distance, but will in a few months be back
again to torment me.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Miss Williams was a young Englishwoman, who had been
brought up in Mr. Pitt’s family, and who had all
along resided with Lady Hester Stanhope, as her
humble companion. It is necessary to observe that it
was a common custom with Lady Hester, when she had
any particular object in view, to write one version
of the subject with her own hand, and to dictate
another, which was to be considered as the expression
of the opinions of the writer, but which to me, long
habituated to the secrets of her cabinet, was easily
recognized as emanating from one and the same source.
[2] In justice to the honourable individual here alluded
to, it is necessary to state that he was wholly
ignorant of the correspondence going on between Lady
Hester Stanhope and myself.
[3] The late Mr. Alexander Murray, solicitor, of Symond’s
Inn.
[4] A heaven-born sage.
[5] Lady Hester does not here mean her relations in
England. She had another family, adopted by her, in
Arabia――the tribe of Arabs called the _Koreysh_. And,
as many individuals, both among the green-turbaned
Mussulmans, or _Sheryfs_, as they are called, the
recognized descendants of Mahomet, and among the
gentry of Syria who claim alliance with the noble
tribes of the desert, were in the habit of frequent
intercourse with her, it is to these she probably
had announced my expected coming. She had a notion,
founded on a very doubtful etymology, that the first
Lord Chatham was descended from an Arabian stock,
there being a tribe somewhat similar in name still
existing among the Bedouins. How she could forget
that Pitt was the family name, and Chatham a title of
dignity, superimposed, is not clear. But from this
tribe of Arabs sprung Melek Seyf, a great conqueror;
and, reasoning in this way, Melek Seyf was her
ancestor, as tribes, like clans, are all one blood.
This story, repeated over and over again, became
current among the servants and in the villages; and
the maids were accustomed to say, “Yes, my lady, they
may be princes or emperors who come to see you, but
your descent is higher than theirs――your ancestors
were Melek Seyf, and the seven kings.”
[6] The Hon. J. Stanhope’s loss of his wife, Lady
Frederica Murray, daughter of the Earl of Mansfield.
[7] N.B. In the following letters, _Aug._ means H.R.H. the
Duke of Sussex; _B._, His Grace the Duke of Bedford;
_Sharky_ (the Arabic for a firm, or partners),
a committee of Freemasons; _A._, Mr. Adams, Mr.
Pitt’s secretary; the _Fat_, His Grace the Duke of
B*********; the _Thin_, the Earl S*******; _Sir
Vanity_, Sir S***** S****; _Kokub_, Lady H. S.; _H._,
Mr. Heber.
[8] The Arabic for jewel.
[9] A measure of the country, containing about a gallon.
[10] By _that one_ H.R.H. the late Duke of York is meant.
[11] Here the Duke of York is again alluded to, who was at
this time sinking into the grave.
[12] It would appear from this, that Lady Hester Stanhope
expected the accomplishment of some great event in
that year of the Hegira, viz., 1245.
[13] A _garára_ is seventy-two mids, or gallons.